Minerva McGonagall's Evening of Allurement
by Adultfanfiction
Summary: AN EROTIC VIDEO, A STUNNED HARRY, AND A SHY BUT WILLING HERMIONE. Part two ready, will only post on request.......Only suitable for 18 yrs or older...........Mostly sexual content.............
1. Chapter 1

Adaptation on the short story "Night of Fun" by sithlordnumber5. (I have sent an E-mail to the author to ask permission)

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- - - - - - **PLEASE READ FIRST** - - - - - - -

In this story, Professor McGonagall is a lot younger and a lot prettier than in the movies, she is about 45 and wizard wise, still in her prime. I've read a few other stories that have similar levels of descriptive sexual content at other fanfiction sites, but I've tried to top them all and push the boundaries of fanfiction writing.

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**Only suitable for people over 18 years of age, and not for the faint hearted. Fanfiction/Sex story**

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**------If most people are offended by this, or find this a little too inappropriate, I apologize. Please let me know and I will withdraw my account and story. **

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He couldn't believe it. Harry Potter, newly instated Headboy, only three weeks into his last year and already strange and astonishing things were occurring within the ancient walls of Hogwarts. He was sat on the sofa, stunned, literally frozen to the spot while he watched the TV in Professor McGonagall's private quarters. His initial surprise was that the muggle contraption was actually working within Hogwarts, he thought back to his CD player last year which just crackled and started to smoke when he pressed play, but his surprise quickly turned into utter disbelief when he realized what he was watching. The Headboy found himself watching a movie that was rather . . . . salacious, to say the least. He was hoping, just this once, to have a normal school year like everyone else. With Voldemort dead, he thought his chances were pretty good.

"According to my sister, muggles nowadays are more open minded, and are quite the exhibitionists. If not in public, then definitely in front of a camamera. I think that's how she pronounced the word. Anyhow, she proved her point quite efficiently don't you think?" Her voice seemed distant to Harry, he barely captured the last word she said. It sounded like pink, Harry thought, but that's not right. The girl's skimpy lingerie was more red than pink.

"How are you feeling Mr. Potter? Are you . . . . . maybe feeling a little . . . . . funny?" she asked, in a low, suggestive voice he had never heard her use before.

"Wha . . What? Er . . . . what do you mean, professor . . . ?" Harry answered, just managing to form actual words with his mouth. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Or seeing for that matter. Maybe she accidentally drank a love potion? Or maybe a potent aphrodisiac spell had gone wrong? He looked over to where his Transfiguration teacher was sitting, one of her hands was trailing circles around her breast, slowly, sensually, and she was looking at him with what was clearly lust in her eyes.

"I think you know exactly what I mean Mr. Potter . . . . . . Any boy, or shall I say man, your age would be aroused by this." She said, nodding her head towards the magically protected TV, where a blond girl was currently devouring another girl's femininity between her legs. Indeed the moans of pleasure the girl was making was having an effect on Harry, his trousers have been feeling very tight since the movie characters started undressing.

Harry couldn't believe the situation he was in, this was not what he was expecting a few hours ago. During class the professor had asked him to come by to her office in the evening, she had walked over to his desk and practically whispered in his ear as if not wanting anyone else to hear. Harry nodded, noticing the strange look on her face, but didn't think much of it at the time as he was too busy trying to ignore Hermione and Ron's bickering whilst attempting to transfigure his rock into a stone goblet. Making his way towards her office, he figured she was going to talk to him about last week's assignment which he didn't do so well in. He knew who to blame for that, but he wasn't about to tell her that it was all her fault. Instead, when he got there she asked him to come into her private quarters and sit on the sofa. Maybe she was going to discuss more personal issues with him, such as how he was handling all the rubbish the Daily Prophet was publishing. He tried his best to ignore it and not let it get to him, but ferret boy's constant sniggering during breakfast didn't help much. Every morning, he couldn't help but snatch the paper from Hermione's reluctant hands and read the ridiculous things Rita Skeeter would come up with, and definitely couldn't help but feel a little annoyed by them. Rita had been particularly brutal towards him the past few weeks, what with the break up of yet another failed relationship during the summer. Yes, that was probably it, he thought as he sat down on the sofa and watched the professor close the door behind her. Oh how wrong he was. Without saying a word, she had flicked her wand and turned on the TV, and Harry had naturally turned his head to see what she wanted to show him. Since the movie began, he had not moved a muscle. He had sat there with his mouth hanging open, unable to move or even process any kind of thought to say something. He had never seen anything like this before. Dean and Seamus have shown him a few muggle magazines of similar nature, but they were nothing compared to what he was seeing right now. After she turned on the TV, Professor McGonagall had sat down across the room from Harry, and ignoring the movie, had just sat there watching him, discreetly caressing her breasts through her robes, and eventually, inching her hand down between her thighs where it was currently working its magic.

Harry had had feelings toward his professor for a while now, he'd found himself staring at her, time and time again during class, up to the point where it started to affect his studies. The way her breasts strained against her tight robes, the way her nipples poked out when the classroom was a bit chilly. He fantasized about her in many different sexual scenarios, but this, watching an erotic movie with her in her office was one he would never have thought of. He looked over to where the professor was sitting, and once the fuzz cleared in his mind, he thought back to what she had just said to him. He was still finding it difficult to speak, so he just nodded, unable to stop the faint blush rising to his cheeks.

"Why don't you come over here? Make yourself a little more comfortable?" She patted the sofa beside her with a small smile on her face.

Harry nervously fidgeted for a second before he slowly got up and walked over to his professor. He sat down next to her, heart beating a mile a minute as she gently touched his shoulder with her hand. She held back a chuckle when she noticed his nervousness, how his whole body tensed with the slightest touch.

"Relax, Harry . . . . . I won't bite . . . . ." And then time seemed to stop when she leaned over and slowly kissed him on the lips. Harry's mind was spinning, he could hardly think straight as she pressed her soft lips to his, becoming completely intoxicated by the lovely perfume she was wearing. His body started to relax, the tension going away as he leaned into the kiss. As much as he was enjoying this kiss with his teacher, he wanted more. He seeked entrance to her mouth, running his tongue along her lower lip as he shifted closer until their bodies were pressed against one another. Professor McGonagall responded straight away, she snaked one of her hands around his neck and pulled him closer, opening her mouth to him as she gave him what he craved. Their tongues rolled around each other for a good five minutes, their hands roaming around each others bodies, going places which were simply not allowed between a student and a professor. After a while, McGonagall got bored. She pulled away and looked down at Harry's huge bulge straining against his trousers.

"Well, well, aren't we excited . . ." McGonagall purred, looking back up to him with lowered eyelashes. She slowly reached over and unzipped his pants, purposely taking her time to enjoy teasing Harry's growing eagerness.

To be continued . . .

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**Part two of Chapter One is a lot more erotic.**

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**Please let me know if you would like me to submit it.**

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**If I do mostly get bad reviews, you can still leave your e-mail address so that I can post the rest of the story directly to you.**

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**If it's the character pairing that you find alarming and not the type of writing then please clarify. Thank You!**

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**Post Script – If there's any other pairings you like reading, please let me know. Planning on a few others. Harry/Narcissa Malfoy, Harry/Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry/Tonks, Harry/Fleur. (Post Hogwarts or Hogwarts Era)**


	2. Chapter One, Part two

**Minerva McGonagall's Evening of Allurement**

(Harry Potter/Minerva McGonagall/Hermione Granger)

**Part two of Chapter One**

"Well, well, aren't we excited . . ." Professor McGonagall purred, looking back up to him with lowered eyelashes. She slowly reached over and unzipped his pants, purposely taking her time to enjoy teasing Harry's growing eagerness. She then eased down his blue, snitch covered boxers and pulled out his throbbing manhood, wrapping her fingers around him tenderly, stroking him and reveling in the control she had over him. She could do whatever she wanted with him now; there was nothing Harry would say no to. And right now Professor McGonagall wanted to pleasure him. With one last look into Harry's eyes, she bent her head down, parted her lips and took him in her mouth, loving the way he gasped and then let out a small moan as he unconsciously leaned his hips up towards her.

Professor McGonagall was enjoying herself. She had successfully allured one of her favorite students, and was now licking him up and down his hard shaft.

"Mmmmm . . . . . does this feel nice Mr. Potter? Would you like me to continue?"

Harry was half way to heaven. He barely heard what she had just asked him so he just groaned in pleasure as a reply. Professor McGonagall didn't need to ask him twice, she bent down and carried on giving him all the pleasure she could give him. The professor was very good at this, Harry thought. It was obvious she knew what she was doing; she knew which parts were sensitive and how it should be treated. With care and gentleness. Harry had quickly forgotten about the strange and bizarreness of the situation he found himself in, and around 10 minutes ago, had given in to that fact that the boy who lived was simply not destined to have a normal year at Hogwarts. He looked down at his professor's head. It beats dark lords, large snakes and ugly toads, at least. Anyway, right now, all he wanted was to be inside her. He was on the verge of going over the edge when all of a sudden there was a knock at the door to her office. McGonagall lifted her head and let out a quiet sigh.

"Who is it?" McGonagall called out. She was a little irritated at being disturbed.

"It's Hermione Granger professor." Came the muffled reply from outside the door. The professor had not asked her to come to her office tonight, but it wasn't a surprise, Hermione always came asking questions about the extra transfigurations reading she had been doing.

"Come in Hermione." The professor's irritation had quickly disappeared. Hermione Granger was another of her students she was planning on seducing. Who wouldn't miss a chance to kill two birds with one stone? Or more like seduce two students in one night.

The door opened and Hermione came in.

"I was just doing some extra reading and was just wondering about this spell . . . . Oh my word!" Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in shock at what she had walked in on. Harry was leaning back on her sofa, with his trousers down to his knees, looking at her with a dazed look on his face. Professor McGonagall was leaning over him, licking the tip of Harry's manhood, teasing it with her tongue. She stopped what she was doing and looked over to the dumbstruck Headgirl.

"Is there something you want to talk about Miss Granger? We're a little busy here but I'm sure Harry won't mind if you join us . . ." She continued stroking Harry with her hand but was currently looking at Hermione with a seductive, inviting look on her face.

"Oh my . . . ." Hermione said again, still too shocked to fully comprehend what she was witnessing. The very strict and stern Transfiguration teacher was suckling her best friend, stroking and teasing his manhood, and by the look on Harry's face, was doing a very good job with the special attention she was giving him. Hermione felt warmth spread all over her, especially around the area between her legs. She also harbored secret sexual feelings for the professor. Lately, Professor McGonagall had been looking more vibrant, younger even, she seemed to have taken a holiday over the summer and the sun had done wonders to her looks. Her hair was now streaked with blonde which were obviously lightened by the sun, and for some reason she'd been wearing form-fitting robes to classes now, and to everyone's surprise, the professor had a very nice figure. She had curvy hips and very ample bosom, which were hidden under the conventional robes she used to wear. She couldn't blame Harry for staring at the professor during class; she too had let her eyes astray from her work to take quick glances at her teacher's body.

Hermione didn't even need to look down. She knew her nipples were poking through her shirt for the world to see that she was turned on. She slowly lowered her hands from her face, about the only thing she could think of doing at the moment, and once she had gotten over the shock, gradually, she began to feel nervous, or maybe it was excitement? She didn't know. What she did know was that her professor had a better idea of what Hermione was feeling right now. She saw the professor's eyes slowly rake her body up and down, stopping for a moment at her chest, then giving her a small smile as she saw how hard Hermione's nipples were.

"It's alright Miss Granger. What happens in here will certainly not leave this room. I suggest you take full advantage of the situation. Who knows, this could account for a large part of your extra credit . . . . I'm sure you'd do anything to increase your chances of getting into Salem Academy's Spell work Institution. Obviously we'll have to change the nature of the extra credit you gain, but, for now, why don't you take over for me? I'm sure you've been interested in crossing that line with Mr. Potter here . . . ." She got up and motioned for her to sit down beside Harry. Hermione knew she shouldn't do this, this wasn't the way she wanted to gain her extra credit but her hormones were pulling in every direction, her heart was racing and she wasn't able to think clearly, let alone think sensibly. Besides, she had been interested for a while now, toying with the idea of what it would be like to be intimate with her best friend. Harry had become quite the specimen in the last couple of years which every girl at Hogwarts was letting him know about every chance they got. (This really annoyed her) Hermione slowly made her way over to them and sat down, her movements a little awkward, not sure what to do with her hands or who to look at. Harry had stayed silent through all this but when Hermione finally gathered the courage to look up to meet his eyes, he reached over and gently touched her arm. He gave her a small smile and quietly said,

"It's OK Hermione, you don't have to do this . . . . ." But he quickly stopped talking when Hermione slowly reached over and started stroking him up and down. Harry didn't say anything more; he was more than a little shocked at her willingness, but he wasn't about to complain. Once again, his body took over and he slowly raised his hips into her hand, unable to hold back the groan. Hermione, who was still looking at Harry, said a little shyly,

"She's right Harry . . . . I've been curious for a while now, about you and me. And besides, you're my best friend. I've been wanting to show you how special you mean to me . . . . ." She pushed her hair back and slowly sank her mouth down onto his manhood as far as it could go, stroking his balls very gently with her fingers. She lifted her head up and down slowly at first, but increasing the pace as Harry's moans became louder and louder. McGonagall looked on in amazement. Who would have thought Hermione of all people, would do such a thing so willingly? The professor always thought it would be a lot harder to entice the sensible, rule abiding Gryffindor, but put Harry into the equation, and here she was, in her private quarters suckling the man himself in front of her. She half expected the Headgirl to just splutter incoherent words and turn around and flee the room when she asked her to join in before. But she didn't, and now was her chance. She had wanted to devour Hermione since she hit puberty and became quite a striking woman. Those small but supple looking breasts, her shapely hips and slim figure, the professor had fantasized about her best student for a while now. She crouched down in front of her and gently placed her hands beneath her student's knees, slowly parting her legs and making sure to give her time to pull away if she felt uncomfortable about this. Hermione did no such thing. She lifted her head up from Harry's lap and gave her Transfiguration teacher a small nod. That's all she needed to see. Professor McGonagall pulled off her school skirt, parted Hermione's legs even further and lowered her head towards her white cotton knickers. She placed one of her legs over her shoulder and leaned down until her face was inches away from her crotch. With trembling fingers, the professor pulled aside her knickers and inhaled her feminine odour. She was wet. Her knickers were soaking with her juices, and she knew Hermione was ready for any special treatment she was about to receive from her professor. She ran her fingers through her course curls, rubbing her hardened snub with her thumb and being rewarded with quiet whimpers from her. After a while Professor McGonagall couldn't resist any longer. She lowered her face and slowly trailed her tongue up and down Hermione, parting her lips and licking the juices from within her, tasting her, giving her pleasure that was indescribable. Hermione lifted her head and looked down at her teacher, a little breathless.

"Oh . . . pr . . Professor . . . . ."

To be continued . .

**Author's Note** – Chapter two completed and ready. Please let me know if you want me to submit it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Professor McGonagall lowered her face and slowly trailed her tongue up and down Hermione, parting her lips and licking the juices from within her, tasting her, giving her pleasure that was indescribable. Hermione lifted her head and looked down at her teacher, a little breathless.

"Oh . . . pr . . . Professor . . . . ." She looked into her professor's eyes, seeing the desire and lust shining through her sparkling blue. It was a startling difference to the women she knew to be her teacher, usually those eyes were surrounded by a frown, the most common one being the I-will-take-points-off-even-if-it's-from-Gryffindor frown, but this evening, she was witnessing a new side to Minerva McGonagall, the hidden side to the strict, stern Transfiguration Professor. Despite the Headgirl's vast vocabulary, this was beyond words; nothing, absolutely nothing, would have prepared her for the feelings rushing through her body right now. Like any other curious teenage girl, she'd touch herself alone at night when she was pretty sure all her dorm-mates were fast asleep, she'd put a silencio charm on the curtains, close her eyes and slide her hand down into her knickers. Letting her imagination take her away, she often fantasized about being with Harry, in several different ways, and in several different places. Sometimes in the common room late at night, sometimes up on the Astronomy Tower under the moon, even in the alcoves dotted around the castle, somewhere where they could easily get caught. Her favorite, and most exciting one so far is one where she discreetly reaches over to Harry's lap during class, unzip him and play with him, stroking him until he's just about to go over the edge only to stop to let him recover, and then start over again. She would imagine herself doing this several times, up to the point where he's trembling with sexual agony, giving her a look that spoke volumes, from "what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-doing?-we're-in-class!" to, "why-the-hell-did-you-stop?" to the one she wanted to see, the "please-Hermione-please-I'm begging-you . . ." look. She would smile at her own cruelty, loving the fact that she had the upper hand on the situation, that　she, and only she, could satisfy him.

On a few nights she had also found herself fantasizing about Professor McGonagall, imagining what it would be like to be kissed by her, touched by her, even in class she would sometimes glance up at her professor, watch her walking around the classroom, wondering how soft her breasts would be, how sensitive those nipples would be under the slightest of touch. She always found it hard to concentrate when the classrooms were chilly, damn those form-fitting robes! she often thought, only to dismiss that thought and go back to . . . . . . . . . "still, . . . I wonder how soft they are . . . . ." One thing was for sure, those nights in bed always finished with a few quiet gasps, a little tremble from her hips and then it would be over. Right now, the way her professor was licking her, it was sexual pleasure taken to new heights. All those nights fantasizing in her dormitory, she never would have imagined something like this was possible, and she never would have imagined actually ever being in this position.

As her professor nibbled her hardened snub with her lips, licked her femininity up and down tantalizingly slowly, massaging her thighs very lightly with her hands to arouse all her senses even more, Hermione couldn't help but wrap her leg tighter around the professor's neck to pull her face closer. It was obvious to Professor McGonagall that Hermione was new to this, she was very responsive, every lick sent a shiver down her body and she knew it wouldn't take long for her to orgasm, she could already feel the muscles around her thighs tighten as Hermione went closer and closer to the edge. Her breathing became increasingly ragged as her legs stiffened around the professor's neck, Hermione could feel the warmth building, bubbling inside her as she moaned in pleasure, and then it came, bursting out from within her.

Moments before, Professor McGonagall had reverted to rubbing Hermione's snub in circles with her thumb, and she knew Hermione was going to climax very soon. She quickened the pace and was just about to go back to using her tongue when all of a sudden Hermione's back arched, her muscles stiffened and she let out small scream, her hands reaching out to grip the sofa as her body, her mind, toppled over the edge. The professor continued to massage Hermione's femininity as wave after wave of ecstasy sailed through her, her body shuddering with every blow. Her breathing was still ragged, coming in shaky breaths, her face flushed from the heat and intensity, but eventually, her body seemed to relax and her hips stopped trembling as the orgasm slowly subsided. Professor McGonagall got up from the floor and looked down at her student, a small smile on her face as she licked the juices from her own lips. Hermione was curled up on her side, her eyes closed as she continued to calm her breathing, her hands between her thighs, pressing them together with her legs as if telling the professor to stop, that she couldn't handle anymore.

Harry, who was watching from the other side of the couch, couldn't take it any longer. He was more than happy to sit back and watch as Hermione moaned in pleasure, watch her grip the cushions around her as her body shuddered with ecstasy, but that was the last straw for him. The sight of seeing his best friend come was intoxicating, and his primal urges slowly took over, and right now, he wanted nothing more than to be inside her. He started to sit up, and was about to gently reach over to Hermione, but stopped when he felt Professor McGonagall's hand on his shoulder.

"Give her a minute to recover Mr. Potter . . . . . I wouldn't be surprised if that was her first time, and she wouldn't be able to handle much more at the moment . . ." She looked down at his lap and said in a quiet voice,

"Why don't I finish what Miss Granger was doing . . . . . . . hmmm? Would you like that . . .?" It was hard to say no to anything she asks when she lowers her eyelashes at him and purrs like a cat, but it was hardly a question which she expected an answer to. She was already on her knees and lowering her mouth onto him, devouring him as far as she could, imitating what Hermione was doing before and softly tickling his balls with her fingers which, she noticed, he seemed to enjoy immensely. Harry was more than content to just let his professor suckle him, the build up to his own climax was a lot slower this way but he knew it would be just as intense, maybe even more so, as she teased him, pushed his sexual urges to the limit until he just couldn't hold it anymore. Harry murmured his appreciation as he stroked her hair, fighting the urge to close his eyes and lean back just so that he could watch the beautiful women suckle him as she looked back up to his face. Professor McGonagall wrapped her lips around him, roving her tongue around his tip, pulling him out of her mouth so that she could run her tongue up and down his shaft which she knew he liked. She still couldn't quite believe how fortunate she was, that this handsome young man and this beautiful young women was letting someone like her be intimate with them, pleasure them and let her see their vulnerable side. She was the luckiest women in Hogwarts right now. It was quite clear that Harry and Hermione had a following within the student body, a group, no, a very large group, of adorers and hopefuls. Ones who adored them from afar, and ones who thought had a chance to be the one to hold their hand on the way to Hogsmeade. They were attractive, intelligent and kind, and they both emanated a certain charisma which made them stand out from the rest of the crowd. Anyone would give an arm and a leg to be in Professor McGonagall's situation right now. In terms of sex appeal, yes, they were certainly the Headboy and Headgirl of Hogwarts.

Hermione opened her eyes, finally recovering from her orgasm, and looked over to where the professor was now suckling Harry. She thought her body would be spent by now, that any sexual urges would have been drained from her body, but the heat and the passion that was passing between their eyes, the way she caressed him with her tongue, suckled him with care, she knew she was once again, becoming hot with anticipation. She wanted to join in, no, she . . . . she didn't know what she wanted to do. Hermione was about to move a little closer to them when she noticed a large wet patch on the sofa just between her legs. Her eyes widened as she realized that that came from her. Was that all from me? She'd noticed herself become all moist when she used to touch herself in bed, but it was never anything like this, her knickers usually soaked up all the juices from within her. Right now, her knickers were dripping and the wet patch was all around her thighs. She felt the professors eyes on her, and indeed, when she slowly looked up, her blue eyes were looking over at her with amusement, she didn't seem annoyed about this, even though this couch looked very expensive, but Hermione still couldn't help but blush as she looked down again at her legs. The professor lifted her mouth up from Harry's lap, and said reassuringly,

"No need to worry Miss Granger, nothing a quick scourgify spell couldn't clean . . . ." Hermione, still blushing, gave her small nod as she used her sleeve to wipe away the moistness around her inner thighs, but she still found it a little embarrassing. Harry on the other hand, didn't find it amusing or embarrassing. Harry was awed, no, aroused, so aroused by this that when Hermione looked up to his face, she almost gasped at the fire burning in his emerald eyes, he wanted her, it wasn't written all over his face, it was emanating from his beautiful eyes and she almost swooned under his gaze. She couldn't remember how long she'd wanted Harry to look at her like that, and it was enough to make her melt on the spot. The flame within Hermione seemed to be fueled by Harry's, and before she knew it, she had launched herself forward, crushing her lips against his, kissing him with a certain degree of urgency, as if trying to make up for the lost time. Harry was just as responsive, it was something they had both wanted to do for a while, but with their friendship and Ron in the way, it never happened, until now. Granted, under the circumstances, a kiss may seem a little trivial now, but the electricity they felt when their lips met, the excitement that was flowing through her veins, it was enough to get her feeling all warm inside and feel the heat spread down between her thighs again. Hermione grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tried to pull his face closer to hers, her other hand running through his black, unruly hair, as she tasted him, roved her tongue around his and suckled on his swollen lips.

Professor McGonagall looked up from where she was crouched and smiled to herself; it was a sight to behold, her two favorite students, half naked, kissing each other with no inhibitions. Her many fantasies were unfolding right before her eyes, and she loved every second of it. She went back to pleasuring Harry, using her hands as well as her mouth to stimulate him, and soon enough, she heard Harry's breathing becoming heavier and heavier, breathing in and out through his nose as he busily explored Hermione's mouth. Harry inched his hips upward as he came closer to the edge, moaning louder and louder, and taking this as a sign, she pulled him out of her mouth and wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him faster and faster until finally, Harry gasped and came harder than ever before in his life. Like Hermione, his hips shuddered, uncontrollable waves of pleasure running through him as the professor continued to stroke him. He had his eyes closed, holding onto the sofa like his life depended on it, writhing as he felt the ecstasy release itself from within him. After a small while, Harry slowly came back down to earth, his breathing eventually calming down as his mind began to clear. He looked down at his professor, who was wiping her hands on her robes, and muttered,

"Professor . . . . . That . . . That was . . . . . I mean . . . . That was . . . . ." Both Hermione and Professor McGonagall smiled at Harry's momentary loss of speech, it wasn't often you see the boy who lived, or since last year, the boy who defeated, become dumbstruck and act like . . . well . . . just that. Dumb. It was very arousing watching Harry have his orgasm, both women felt the magic in the air crackle with energy and hear the windows rattle, showing just how powerful a wizard he truly was.

"No need for you to explain, Mr. Potter, it was quite clear that you . . . . enjoyed yourself . . . . ." She smiled up at him fondly from where she was still crouched, liking the fact that it was her that pleasured him to this state, slumped back on the sofa, seemingly too exhausted to move.

"I have to say, I'm certainly impressed by your . . . . . how shall I put it . . . Lengthy stamina . . . . . ?" Professor McGonagall was still smiling at him, trailing her index finger up and down his shaft, obviously complimenting him on two fronts. Harry certainly did enjoy himself, actually, he was still enjoying himself. The two beautiful women of Hogwarts, his Transfiguration teacher and his best friend were looking at him affectionately, the three of them had shared something so wonderful together that he was still floating on cloud nine, marveling at how damn lucky he was. What he didn't know was how much more lucky he was going to get, it seemed like Professor McGonagall had further plans for the both of them that evening, as she slowly stood up and started to untie the small thin belt holding her robes closed.

Harry and Hermione both froze, not believing, not wanting to get their hopes up to what they thought she was about to do. They had both imagined, fantasized, about how the Transfiguration teacher would look naked, but they dared not think that one day they would be able to actually see it. Their minds came to a complete stand still as the professor slowly, teasingly undid her thin belt. She was wearing the robes that she always wears when she's in her office during the evenings, they opened at the front like bath robes, but were more elegant, and they were just as sexy as the form-fitting robes she wore to class. The midnight blue material hugged her curves, the thin, silk like material doing nothing to hide her erect nipples, and right now, all three occupants in Minerva McGonagall's private quarters were nervous, excited, aroused, so many different emotions rushing around all three of them that they could literally hear their own hearts beating against their chests. If the two girls from the movie that was still playing on the TV were here now, they would be quite offended at the lack of attention they were receiving, despite their loud and enticing performance. The professor finally untied the thin belts and let them fall to the ground, she still had a hold on the robes though, but slowly, seductively, she let them fall to the sides. Harry and Hermione let out small gasps as they saw that she wasn't wearing any underwear.

To be continued . .

Chapter 3 completed, will post that tomorrow, chapter 4 also already written, will post that the day after.

**Post Script** – Had some good reviews, (Thankyou, I really appreciate it) so I will continue posting the rest of the story on the website.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The professor finally untied the thin belts and let them fall to the ground, she still had a hold on the robes though, but slowly, seductively, she let them fall to the sides. Harry and Hermione let out small gasps as they saw that she wasn't wearing any underwear. The sight before them was everything they imagined, and more, so much more, and seeing her in the flesh was simply breath taking. Her skin was smooth and looked so soft to touch, you could see a faint bikini tan surrounding her breasts, her large, supple breasts a topped with pink nipples that were just asking to be licked and suckled on. Both Harry and Hermione had forgotten to breathe since Professor McGonagall opened her robes, but it was hardly a priority right now as their eyes traveled down her stomach, to her cute little belly button, to her shapely hips, and further down, to her other bikini tan. It was only after their hearts started thumping against their ribcage that they finally remembered to start breathing, only to become light-headed, as they took in those sensual, curvy hips, how they accentuated her voluptuous body and complimented those long legs. But what caught the attention of the two awestruck students was the fact that Professor McGonagall, was bare, her smooth flawless skin stretched across her entire body, her chest, her stomach and also, the area between her thighs. She had a very small mound of light brown curls just above her femininity, but otherwise, she was smooth, and one look at it, and they knew that the professor . . . . . . . maintained . . . . . herself in that department quite nicely. Harry and Hermione were once again, finding it very hard to execute the simple task of breathing in and breathing out.

Professor McGonagall, however, was feeling a little nervous. She had just exposed her body to her two favorite students, and though their faces weren't of utter disgust, they hadn't said or done anything since she opened her robes, and it was becoming slightly unnerving. A blush slowly rose to her cheeks as she started to think that maybe she was a bit too hasty, that she let herself get caught up in the heat of the moment, and forgot that maybe they weren't quite ready to see her. Those thoughts started to solidify as they continued to stare, and she was just about to close her robes when at last Harry spoke up. Barely a whisper, he said

"You're . . . . . . You're absolutely stunning, Professor . . . . . ." Green eyes met blue, and she could see that he truly meant it. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Beautiful . . . . . ." Hermione was still staring at her breasts, but when she noticed the professor smiling down at her, she quickly looked away, blushing furiously as she suddenly felt like a child being caught red handed, peeking at something she wasn't allowed to see. Professor McGonagall relaxed after this, her confidence growing back a little as they both seemed to look at her with appreciation, and looking down at the guilty ridden Headgirl, her mischievous side almost took over, wanting to playfully scold her, maybe say something a little seductive like, "Tut, Tut Miss Granger, I caught you looking at my breasts . . . . and I think . . Yes . . . . what you need, young lady, is a good spanking . . . . . . now bend over, you naughty girl . . . . . ." But looking at her face, Hermione seemed almost ashamed, like she truly believed she did something bad, despite all that's happened between the three of them in the last hour. Professor McGonagall smiled to herself; no matter what the circumstance, Hermione Granger was still the sensible, rule-abiding Gryffindor which she grew to adore over the years at Hogwarts. The professor looked over at Harry, who was still looking at her, his eyes darting around her body, to her breasts, her stomach, her legs, as if trying to commit every inch of her skin, every curve of her body to memory, and though he seemed quite aroused, it didn't look like he was going to recover any time soon. So she came up with an alternative, and thought about having some fun with Hermione, put on a little show to once again, get Mr. Potter to full height. Still loosely wearing her blue robes, she sat down next to Hermione and whispered into her ear,

"It's OK to look Miss Granger, I haven't yet given you any detentions during class now have I . . . .?" If Hermione was embarrassed before, now she was positively mortified. Professor McGonagall had obviously caught Hermione peeking at her when she thought she wasn't looking, but at least it explained why the professor sometimes gave her knowing smiles as she walked out of the classroom at the end of the lesson. She'd always wondered about that. This obviously meant the professor had also noticed Harry's constant staring during lesson time as well; it wasn't exactly hard to miss, as he rarely did anything else these days, but the professor never seemed to tell him off. It became a habit for Hermione to discreetly cast an Impervius spell on Harry's parchment.

Hermione just couldn't look at her professor right now, not only was she sat next to her with her breasts showing, but she now realised that the professor knew all along that she occasionally sneaked a peek during class, and all those knowing looks the professor gave her came back to haunt her as she looked down at her feet, trying, but failing miserably, to hide her blushing cheeks behind her hair. Professor McGonagall couldn't help but smile. Hermione Granger, the bossy know-it-all, (although lately she's seems to have calmed down in that respect) a confident student that had a commanding presence when it came to Prefect meetings, Headgirl duties and whatnot, was reduced to a shy little girl under her naked presence. She couldn't blame her though, Professor McGonagall was also trying quite hard to not look embarrassed, as it had been a while since she let anyone see her naked body. Professor McGonagall slowly reached out and stroked Hermione's cheek, making her look up, and gave her a small smile.

"You don't have to feel so embarrassed Miss Granger; it's not like I haven't noticed how you've grown up to become such a beautiful young woman . . . . . ." And she slowly leaned towards her to kiss her trembling lips. It was bliss. Hermione reveled in the feel of those soft, tender lips, the way the professor's hand slowly stroked her face, her neck, making it's way down her shoulders . . . . . Hermione let out a soft moan as she felt Professor McGonagall's hand undo a couple of the buttons on her school shirt, and slowly slip her hand in, feeling her fingers snake beneath her bra and start caressing her breast , gently rubbing her palm around her erect nipple, making her forget her embarrassment moments before. The professor felt Hermione slowly lean into her hand, letting her know she craved the attention, and it took all her will power to not open her shirt and take her sensitive nipples in her mouth, no . . . she wanted to go slow, savor every moment, and also, torment Harry, who was surely watching them with pure lust, probably silently willing her to open Hermione's shirt so that he could take a peek at his best friend's breasts. It didn't take long for their kiss to deepen; their tongues started to roam, exploring each other's mouths and licking, tasting each other's swollen lips.

Professor McGonagall's heart was racing, beating with excitement as she kissed the young women, and with her other hand, felt for Hermione's hand and gently lifted it up towards her own chest. If the professor wasn't kissing her at the moment, she would have sighed in content as Hermione's fingers gently teased her nipples, sending shivers down her spine as her small hand caressed her. The Headgirl was becoming increasingly warm, her professor felt so delicate, felt her nipples harden under her palm as she gave it a gentle squeeze. Kissing the professor was different to kissing Harry, while she felt the fierce passion burning through the both of them when their lips met, the slow, sensuality of the kiss with her beautiful professor was just as wonderful. And her breasts. Oh the feel of those perfect breasts, was getting her all warm inside, and she knew that if she rubbed her thighs together, she would definitely feel the wetness coming from within her femininity.

Harry was once again speechless. Nothing could arouse a man more than seeing two beautiful women kissing and caressing each other. The delicate and gentle way they touched was something only women could share with each other. And it was definitely getting him all hot and bothered. Just for a moment, Harry thought back to how he always used to wonder what it was about seeing two women kissing. He often felt the tiniest urge to ask a girl if they became aroused when they saw two men kissing, though he quickly banished that thought as he certainly didn't want to ruin this moment right now. Harry had to smile at the small irony that Hermione, the one girl he was most definitely not going to ask that question in fear of the scandalized look she'd give him, was kissing another women, right before his eyes. Although, that smile was quickly wiped off from his face as Professor McGonagall reached out and slipped her hand into Hermione's shirt. Harry could feel his blood rushing to his face, the sight was so arousing that it felt like the temperature in the room increased a few notches. Soon enough, the blood found its way down towards his groin and he gave in to the urge to start stroking himself, watching them as they kissed. The site was something he'll treasure until the day he dies, and amongst many other's in the past hour, it was definitely a potential in his archive of happy memories for whenever he needed to cast a patronus. He couldn't help but smile slightly, as a small part of him hoped his stag didn't start humping everything in sight. But he soon let go of that trail of thought, because right now he was positively feverish with desire, as he watched the professor take hold of Hermione's hand and slowly guide it to her own breast. Those large, supple breasts, it took everything he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them, their kiss seemed so deep, so intimate, that he didn't feel like intruding.

Professor McGonagall was halfway to heaven. She could hear her little whimpers as she gently squeezed Hermione, teasing her sensitive nipples with her fingers and flicking them back and forth with her thumb. It felt so wonderful to be intimate with her, it was so sensual, so arousing, and the heat from within her body was certainly spreading around her, telling her that this simple act of kissing, was making her wet. And what was more, she could hear Harry's breathing becoming deeper, more strained, she could literally feel the magic, the desire, emanating from the powerful wizard sat next to them. Professor McGonagall finally broke the kiss, they were both a little breathless from it and when they opened their eyes, chocolate brown met the sparkling blue, and they knew they had made a connection. Hermione and Professor McGonagall have always been close, like student and mentor, sharing the same values and opinions, but after that kiss, a deeper, more intimate connection was made that no one could break. That kiss was on another level that only women can reach.

"Professor . . . . . . . . . That was . . . just . . . .amazing . . . ." Hermione was looking up at her teacher with so much emotion in her eyes, it was a perfect reflection of the professor's feelings. She trailed a finger along Hermione's jaw, across her swollen lips, and murmured.

"It certainly was, Miss Granger . . ." She looked into those brown eyes and nodded slowly.

"It certainly was . . . . ." Professor McGonagall leaned forward to give her another kiss on the lips, and with one last smile, she turned her head towards Harry. She lowered her eyelashes at him, smiling at how he was looking back at them with lust and want, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she glanced down at his hand and saw that he was stroking his manhood. This was it, she thought. She had wanted this for so long. Without looking away from Harry, she leaned towards Hermione and purred,

"It seems like Mr. Potter enjoyed watching us kiss, Miss Granger . . . . ." Hermione also couldn't help but blush as she looked over to Harry, and gave him a small smile. The way he was looking at them both, the way he was running his fingers very gently up and down himself, as if inviting them, her heart rate, once again, seemed to rise as a whirlwind of emotions ran through her. Professor McGonagall shifted across the sofa over to Harry's side, and with a purposeful glance at his manhood, she murmured,

"Mmmmm . . . Mr. Potter, would be OK with you, if I . . . . . " She didn't need to finish her question, it was quite clear what she was asking, as she lifted one of her legs over Harry's lap and straddled his legs. Harry was yet again, forgetting what his lungs were used for. He was looking up at his professor, taking in the beautiful sight, reveling at how her blue, silk robes were hanging off her shoulders, how her supple breasts loomed over him, daring him to caress them, and how her warm thighs were sitting on his legs, just inches away from his throbbing manhood. It was all too much. He slowly lifted his hands, running his fingers up and down her body, feeling the smooth skin, the contours of her shapely hips, and finally, finally, cupping her large breasts with his hands, holding back a groan as he felt those hard nipples press against his palms. He had wanted to feel them, touch them, for, so, so long. Ever since he realized just how beautiful his Transfiguration Professor was, he had fantasized about squeezing them, suckling them and listening to her moan in pleasure from all the gentle attention. And that is exactly what he did. He teased both her nipples with his thumbs, loving the way she let out a small gasp when he tweaked them, and then he wrapped his arms around her back to pull her closer, and take her sensitive nipple into his mouth, suckling them, nibbling them with his lips, and gently, very gently, biting them with his teeth to heighten her senses even further. Professor McGonagall was melting on the spot. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him lightly on the top of his head and pulled him closer to her chest, encouraging him to tease her nipples even more. Harry turned his attention to her other nipple and did the same, using his tongue to tease it, suckle on it till it was hard. After a short while, neither of them could hold back any longer. Professor McGonagall pulled back and looked down into those emerald green eyes, conveying her desires to have him inside her. She bent her head down and kissed him, and then trailed kisses on his cheeks, along his jaw until she was nibbling his ear.

"Oh Harry, . . . . I've wanted you for so long . . . . ." And she lent back and kissed him soundly on the lips. Without breaking eye contact with him, she slowly lifted her hips up just a little, and slowly reached down to guide him into her.

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**THE END**

**Thank you for Reading.**

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**Just joking.**

**To be continued . . . .**

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**I wouldn't mind a few more reviews on this story, it serves as great motivation, your comments are greatly appreciated. And also, any suggestions to pairings/plots you'd like to read? Would like to get a good idea on which ones are the most popular. I apologize, but no male slashes.**

**Thanks for all the reviews so far, I'm definitely going to try and raise the bar a little higher on my next stories.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Oh Harry . . . I've wanted you for so long . . . . ." And she leaned back and kissed him soundly on the lips. Without breaking eye contact with him, she slowly lifted her hips up just a little, and slowly reached down to guide him into her. Her hands were a little shaky as she wrapped her fingers around him, she pulled it back just a little, so that it touched her entrance, the tip of his manhood spreading her moist lips apart. Professor McGonagall's heart was pounding; her breathing a little shallow as she slowly guided him into herself, a long awaited moan escaping her lips as she felt him slide into her. Harry held onto her hips as she gently sank herself onto him, she felt so warm inside, so wet; he could barely think straight as he arched his back against the sofa to push himself further and further into her. It felt wonderful, the way her femininity enveloped him, almost squeezed him as she sent his nerves into disarray. He looked up to her face, the professor had her eyes closed, her mouth hanging open slightly as she slowly raised her hips again, readying herself for the second thrust. She certainly was enjoying it. Her face was of pure pleasure as he heard her whisper his name as she lowered her hips onto Harry's manhood for the second time.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, working herself into a slow rhythm by using her thighs to slide her hips up and down his shaft. She leaned her chest forward into his face, silently telling Harry to tease her nipples again with his mouth. Harry didn't need any encouragement; he was already opening his mouth, intending to suckle on her breasts when he noticed her starting to lean against him. Harry had to smile, she wanted it so badly, and he was going to give her everything. He placed his hands around her back and leaned back, slowly pulling her body with him, bringing him closer to arouse those round, pink nipples. Professor McGonagall could hear the soft suckling sounds Harry was making as he tongued her nipples, taking great pleasure in all the attention she was getting from this handsome young man. Her breathing was becoming a little strained, sucking in gasps of air as she moved her hips up and down, faster and faster, and soon enough, her feminine juices started to flow, trickling down his shaft and in between his thighs. Her body was completely taking over. She wouldn't be able to stop, or slow down even if she tried, as the tingling sensation spread around her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Hermione was feeling warm all over, watching her best friend thrust his hips up into the professor, faintly aware of the rhythmic creaking sound of the sofa, it was really making her wet. And there and then she had unconsciously crossed that line. She was done being embarrassed or shy, her body craved attention and she was going to satisfy her urges. She took off her damp knickers and dropped them on the floor, becoming slightly more excited at her own daringness as she sat back down on the sofa with nothing on from the waist below. She leaned back, spreading her legs apart as much as she could and started to rub her fingers in circles around her hardened snub, watching the professor move her hips up and down, up and down, imagining the pleasure coursing through both their bodies. The sensible, rule-abiding Headgirl was no more. She literally had lost control of her body, she was purely acting on her ever growing excitement and after a while, the Headgirl was leaning further back into the sofa, lifting her legs a little higher to spread her moist lips apart, sliding her fingers in and out as far as they could go. Her fingers were glistening with her juices, and once she found the sensitive spot inside her femininity, she gradually worked herself towards another intense orgasm.

"Oh yes . . . . . yes . . . . mmm . . . . Oh Harry . . . . ." Professor McGonagall was letting out soft moans with every thrust, almost whimpering as she tried to hold on, hold on just a bit longer to savor every moment as she made love to the man of her fantasies. But it was too much, the intensity of being with him was so much more, it had been so long since she had been intimate with another man, and Harry's groans, his little whispers, the way their hips moved together, it was causing her body to quickly bubble, feeling her orgasm fast approaching. She didn't want to come so soon, but the way he was pushing himself deeper inside her, the way her body reacted as they both quickened the pace, she couldn't help it, and before she could even take one last look into his eyes as they made love, she lost her grip. With one final thrust, her body exploded with ecstasy, her hands gripping his shirt as wave, after wave, after wave, of pleasure coursed through her entire body, moaning his name, releasing all that pent up sexual frustration she had kept within her for so long.

So many times she had fantasized about making love to Harry, in bed alone at night, in her office in between classes, even during class when the students were taking a theory test. She used to look over to where Harry was seated; he'd be frowning down at his parchment, tapping his quill lightly on the desk as he tried to answer his questions. So many times she marveled at how handsome he had become, how kind and sweet he was despite all that he'd been through. And she loved it when she caught him looking at her, sometimes his eyes would be on her chest, other times they were traveling down her hips, her legs, and it made her feel so sexy, so wanted, and she couldn't help but become aroused. Whenever she gave them a test, she would sit at the front behind her desk and carefully pull up her robes, making sure none of the students were looking, and part her legs so that she could slide her hand down between her thighs. Looking over at the young man with black hair, she would imagine those green, emerald eyes raking her naked body with pure lust. She wouldn't go far though; she would shift her knickers to one side and gently tease her lips, feeling them grow moist as she bit her lower lip, trying hard to not let a moan escape her mouth. And then when the test was over, she'd wipe her hand on her robes under the desk and try her best to put on a stern face, return to her brisk manner as she told them all to hand in their parchments.

Professor McGonagall wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, hugging him as her orgasm slowly washed away. Her hips were still shaking, jerking a few more times as the feeling slowly drained out of her, taking away all the sexual frustration with it. This was what her body craved for. For weeks, she had tried to gather the courage to allure him, arouse him and make love to him, and she finally did it, she finally had him in her arms, his manhood still inside her as her body shuddered with pleasure until all was quiet in Professor McGonagall's private quarters, except for the heavy breathing of the three occupants. As her body finally started to relax, she waited for her breathing to calm, and still embracing Harry and stroking his hair, she murmured words of appreciation into his ears, telling him how wonderful it was. She finally pulled back to look down at his face, only to see him look up at her with a frustrated, pleading look in his eyes. Professor McGonagall was momentarily alarmed, not sure what to make of it, it certainly sounded like he was enjoying it as much as she was, and then he whispered,

"Professor . . . . . Please . . . . just a little more . . . . ." And the professor knew what was wrong, she was too caught up with her own, that she didn't realize that Harry still hadn't reached his. In fact, she could still feel his throbbing manhood inside her, waiting to be satisfied. She smiled down at him and quietly said,

"Anything for you, my dear . . . ." And she began to move her hips up and down again, stimulating him, making sure to push herself down as far as she could, as Harry closed his eyes and started groaning, pulling her to him as he again, started matching every one of her thrusts. His breathing becoming deeper; he buried his face in her chest as he ground his hips in and out of her, faster and faster until he was just barely holding on. He managed to look up seconds before he reached his end, asking her with his eyes. She knew what he was asking.

"It's OK, Harry . . . you can let go . . . . . go on, my dear . . . . ." She smiled down at him as he closed his eyes and exploded inside her, releasing himself, shoving his hips upwards and letting all those fantasies race through his mind, day after day, night after night, as he dreamt about making love to her. A feeling of utter bliss flowed through his body.

After the shivers resided, his muscles started to relax, his heart rate slowing down as he gradually, slowly, recovered from his orgasm. He couldn't move. His body was spent and all he wanted to do was sit there, and just hold her in his arms for a little while, wait for his body to come back down from wherever. His arms still wrapped around her, his head still against her chest, he tried to calm his breathing down, basking in the faint odour of her femininity, her perfume and sweat, almost drifting to sleep from the blissful feeling and exhaustion. The professor was still hugging him, stroking his hair, coddling him, cooing softly in his ear and giving all the comfort only a woman can give. It was heavenly. He would die a happy man.

All the while, Hermione was on the other side of the couch, watching as her professor and her best friend made love and scream in pleasure, embracing each other as they came. It was enough to make her feel light headed as she continued to slide her wet fingers in and out of her, feeling that now familiar sensation blossoming from within her, pushing her, pulling her in every which way. After the professor's orgasm had passed, she watched as Harry looked up and murmured something to the professor and in turn she nodded, said something back and again, started rocking her hips back and forth. It was then that she realized that Harry was also approaching his boiling point, his climax, and so she quickened her fingers in time to watch the powerful wizard that was her friend, release himself inside the professor, groaning as his body tremored with utter pleasure. She could feel the electricity in the air crackling with energy, her hair on the back of her neck prickling as she watched a few, emerald green sparks appear out of nowhere around the two of them. That was it for her. Her heavy breathing came to a halt as her body arched back, her muscles in her thighs tightened, moaning and moaning, rubbing herself frantically as her hips started to practically convulse. Her body, her mind, was blown a way as a small gush of her feminine juices trickled out from within her, covering her fingers and making her brown curls glisten in the candle light. Scene after scene from bits of her fantasies raced through her mind, seeing flashes of those emerald green eyes, seeing those tender hands of an older women reach out and touch her. She was still panting long after she climaxed, finally pulling her fingers out of her and flopping back on the sofa, her body limp, a certain shine coating over her hips and her thighs. It was the most intense experience of Hermione Granger's life.

Harry and Professor McGonagall watched on with wide eyes as Hermione orgasmed, watched as she trembled, see her fingers desperately trying to push her further over the edge. The area around her thighs on the sofa was dark, probably wet from her juices, the red material showing just how much her body was responding to the all consuming explosion from within her femininity. Harry, this time, was truly awed. A women's orgasm seemed so much more intense, it needed to be reached with care and patience, but when they go over the edge, they go over screaming. And that was what he saw. Hermione was probably close to passing out right now, her eyes were closed; her legs were clamped together, her hands protectively covering her femininity. She was curled up on her side again like before, looking as vulnerable as ever, and Harry couldn't help it; he needed to comfort his best friend, he wanted to comfort his best friend. He looked up to the professor who was still straddling him, and she seemed to know what he was wanting to do. She smiled down at him.

"Go on, my dear . . . . . . . ." She slowly lifted herself up, sliding Harry's manhood out from within her, and stood up from the sofa. Harry lifted himself up enough to pull up his trousers, and then crawled over and sat beside her, slowly stroking her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up into those beautiful green eyes. Her mind was still a little clouded, still experiencing that feeling of euphoria floating around her body, as if she had not a care in the world as she looked up into those green eyes. But soon enough, her mind cleared and she quickly registered where she was, and her face turned a deep crimson, dying with embarrassment as she recalled the last few minutes. She was faintly aware that Harry and Professor McGonagall would have been able to see her if they just turned their heads, but with no control over her body or mind, she didn't care to stop and maybe ask them to look away or something. She buried her head in her arms and murmured something about wanting to crawl in a hole. Harry wasn't far off either. He too had soon realized what they had just done with their Transfiguration Professor, and all the shock that was forgotten before came crashing back to him as he acknowledged what he had just done with his teacher, or was done by his teacher. Professor McGonagall sensed their embarrassment, she could fully understand that unsettling feeling as she too was feeling a little shy now that it was over.

"Err . . . . . Mr. Potter . . . . . Miss Granger . . . um . . . why don't I give you a few minutes to get dressed . . . ? I'll just be in my office . . . ." And she picked up her belt from off the floor, and with one last tentative little smile at them over her shoulder; she walked into her office and quietly closed the door behind her.

After watching the professor leave, Harry turned back to face Hermione, who was looking back up at him with a slight blush across her pretty face. A few seconds past, until Harry broke the silence with a whisper.

"So . . ." He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

"So . . ." She couldn't think of anything else. Harry looked at the floor for a second, and then looked back up at his best friend.

"What now . . .?" She briefly saw the shy little eleven year old boy sitting on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione gently placed a hand on Harry's arm, giving him a reassuring smile.

"I don't know . . . . . But whatever happens . . . . well . . . . . happens. We'll work things out . . . ." Harry was comforted by the fact that she was just as unsure of the future, and that she was willing to get through this together, by his side, just like always. That reassuring smile soon faded away, as she mumbled,

"I . . . I should probably . . . um . . . . . . . get dressed . . . ." She trailed off to a whisper as she looked down at her fingers, and Harry quickly remembered that Hermione was not wearing anything from the waste below. He jumped up from the couch and turned away quickly, his body stiff as a board as he became increasingly nervous, completely at a loss to what to say. It was one of those moments when you just didn't know where to put your hands, so he just resorted to scratching his head while Hermione got dressed. He heard her whisper something several times and half turned his head towards her.

"Did you say something . . . . ?" Harry happened to look towards a glass cabinet next to the wall and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Hermione was with her back to the cabinet, standing half naked, holding her knickers, and seemingly pointing her wand at various places on the sofa. He quickly looked away, he wasn't going to disrespect her, and so stared resolutely at the TV, where it was just showing static. The movie had finished, thank god, but he couldn't help but frown at Hermione's hasty reply.

"No . . . no . . . I didn't say anything . . ." She continued to whisper several words, but Harry hadn't the faintest clue as to what she was doing.

"Err . . . . . are you sure . . ? I mean . . . . . Is everything OK . . . . . ?" He almost looked at the reflection again, curious to why she was acting so strangely.

A few moments before………

"I . . . I should probably . . . um . . . . . . . get dressed . . . ." Hermione tried her best to cover herself with her hands as Harry jumped up from the couch, and after double-checking that he was facing away and wasn't going to turn around, she got up from the sofa and quickly picked up her knickers. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the sofa, she had suffered from enough embarrassment for one day. She quickly buttoned her shirt up and fished for her wand in her shirt pocket, and then with a quick glance at Harry who, for some reason, was still scratching his head, started casting scourgify spells on the sofa, cleaning those damp patches. She was able to quietly cast the spell three or four times until Harry noticed her whispering, saw him turning his head just a little as he asked if she just said anything. Giving him a hasty reply, she tried her best to continue casting the spell under her breath, but was once again questioned by Harry. She ignored him this time until she was satisfied that the sofa was back to the way it was, and then quickly got dressed, noticing for the first time that there was a TV in the corner. She faintly remembered some music playing in the back ground but she hadn't a clue as to what it was playing. She'd ask Harry later.

"It's OK, Harry . . . . You can turn around now. . . ." Harry took a moment to compose himself, putting on a brave face as he turned around; giving her a smile that was hopefully telling her that he wasn't _that_ uncomfortable with the whole situation they found themselves in. It was partly true, he was still feeling a little embarrassed, but once he got over the shock, and everything that they had done slowly sank in, he knew he wasn't sorry that it had happened, he was actually glad that he was able to experience this, above all experiences, with his best friend. Hermione gave him a small smile, relieved that he also seemed to have no regrets about all of this. Harry opened his mouth and was about to ask her what she was whispering a few moments ago, but she didn't feel like telling him, it was too embarrassing for her to deal with right now, so she quickly beat him to it.

"Anyway, we best go now . . . . the professor will be waiting . . . ." She glanced at the door to the office and was wondering, wondering what it was going to be like between the three of them after tonight. Harry decided to let the question go, from the look on her face, she didn't want to talk about it, and besides, he thought, as he glanced at the door, he was feeling a little apprehensive about what they were going to say when they opened that door and step into her office. He was definitely not looking forward to it.

They both looked at each other, and with a resigned sort of way, accepted that they couldn't avoid the inevitable. They slowly walked towards the door to Professor McGonagall's office. Harry was the unfortunate one to reach the door first, and with one last glance at Hermione, he slowly pushed it open, scrunching his eyes a little at the bright light illuminating her office. He stepped inside and saw that the professor was standing by the window; she was looking out at the Hogwarts grounds, still wearing those blue robes. She seemed to have fixed her disheveled hair, and was once again, looking as attractive as ever. She turned around and saw them come in, she gave them a warm smile, and seeing the familiar affection in those friendly blue eyes, he and Hermione felt a little lighter on their feet, feeling that just maybe, things weren't going to be so bad after all.

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**Epilogue - Just ask her**

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Maybe if he reached out and held her hand, then it would be easier to ask her.

He looked over to her, her eyes seemed brighter, as if a new flame had ignited within her, and at the same time, looking very content with the world right now. Hermione noticed Harry's eyes on her and she gave him a small smile, and as if reading his mind, she reached over and slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers, swinging them back and forth gently as they walked back to the Headboy and Headgirl's common room. Hermione glanced back at Harry,

"Are you OK Harry? You seem a little quiet . . . . ." They were just outside their common room now, waiting for the portrait to slide open so that they could climb. If he didn't ask her now, he never will, he thought. Harry quickly gathered his Gryffindor courage, took a deep breath and turned to her.

"Err . . . . I was just . . . . . um . . . . I was just . . . . . . no . . . it's nothing, just a little tired is all. Even the boy who lived has his limit's right?" He added with a nervous laugh. So much for the Gryffindor courage. Hermione gave him a smile, slightly relieved that whatever was on his mind, there was still no regret in his eyes. That relief didn't last though, as an awkward silence soon followed.

"Um . . . Harry . . . ? Things aren't . . . . . . going to be . . awkward . . . . . between us are they?" She was nervously pulling at her skirt, she really hoped things wouldn't change between them; actually she did, but not in a bad way. She really hoped she could be the one to hold his hand on next week's Hogsmeade trip. Harry quickly looked back up at her.

"No! No . . . . . don't worry, nothings going to change, I was just . . . I was just wondering . . . . ." Harry quickly looked away, slowly thinking that maybe it would be easier to ask her when he wasn't looking into her eyes. Why was this so hard? I know why . . . he thought . . . because it's Hermione . . . . . Hermione saw his nervousness and she started wondering, started getting hopeful, maybe he was going to ask her to go to Hogsmeade next week? Or maybe . . . . her mind traveled to the large bed in her dormitory . . . . no . . . she scolded herself, she wouldn't want to rush into things, she wanted things to develop naturally between them, despite what happened tonight. She patiently waited for him to finish his sentence, and finally, after a few strained moments, she saw the determination in those green eyes she grew to admire over the years. Alright, here goes . . . Harry thought, he tapped into his last resource of Gryffindor courage and took a deep breath and looked up to her face.

"Do- you-get-turned-on-when-you-see-two-guys-kissing?" Harry let the words tumble out of his mouth, and quickly wished he hadn't asked, hoping against hope that she didn't quite catch the words. He was wrong. Being best friends for 7 years, you could understand anything they said, whether it was a mumble, or a cough, they always knew the jist of it, no matter how quickly they said it.

Hermione heard the question. She had caught every word of it, and was looking back at Harry with a frown, a questioning look . . . . . no . . . . Harry thought, she was looking back at him as if he were the biggest moron in the world. A few more tense seconds passed between them, before she rolled her eyes, and gave out a sigh.

"Goodnight Harry." You big moron. She added silently, holding back a smile as she turned around and walked towards her dormitory across the common room.

"He . . . hey, wait . . . . . I . . . I didn't mean to . . . ." He reached out, taking a few tentative steps towards her retreating back, but she didn't seem like she was going to listen to him anymore. When she closed the door behind her, he slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"Bugger . . . . ." he looked back up at the door to her room.

"Nice going, Harry . . . ." He whispered to himself, and slowly walked towards his own dormitory, already thinking of ways to apologize to her in the morning. He collapsed on his bed and looked up at the ceiling, mentally kicking himself for asking that damn question. Maybe he should have asked the other question first. No . . . he should never have asked that stupid question at all. He sighed in defeat. Oh well . . . . , maybe after things calm down between them, he'll say what he wanted to say, what he should have said, and ask her if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him next week.

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**THE END**

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**It wasn't the best ending, but this was my first fic. For those who enjoy a Harry/Hermione story, and want to actually see some Harry/Hermione, I will, eventually, continue to "The next morning", or maybe start a post-Hogwarts story between the two. Expect a more sexual Hermione.**

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**Be sure to check in tomorrow, have started the beginnings of a Harry/Tonks story and a Harry/Fleur story, see which one you'd like me continue with.**


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